Undun
by Stratocruiser
Summary: Things change all the time. So when Elliot and Olivia are abducted from New York and plunked down in rural Virginia, will their relationship change for the better or the worse?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Undun

Author: Stratocruiser

Catagory: Action-Adventure

Rated: T

Summary: Breaking up a child sale ring leads Elliot and Olivia on a frightening journey up a Virginia river.

Disclaimer: You recognize it, it's not mine.

**Undun**

_Prologue_

The sound of the barking dogs grew closer. With every step through the shallows, they were losing their lead. Elliot struggled on his sprained ankle, trying to keep pace with a terrified Olivia. From behind, he could tell her energy as flagging. Sweat rolled down her back and mixed with the river water they were throwing into the air. There was a stagnant smell. Dragonflies buzzed up when the cat-tails were disturbd by Olivia's arms and legs. Elliot's eyes smarted from the sun's reflection off the murky water.

"Run goddammit! Elliot, I need you to run!"

She urged him on. He thought he heard a train whistle off in the distance. It would have been a perfectly still summer afternoon anywhere else.

Off to the left he spotted what they'd been looking for...a thicket of trees and brambles, forming a near-perfect hiding place.

"Liv! Over here! Come on..."

Olivia turned around quickly and nodded. Elliot grasped her hand and they half-swam half-waded to the other side. His grip didn't falter as they plunged into the stinging briars. Birds flew out of the tangle in every direction, squawking at the commotion.

He literally fell into an open spot in the thicket, carrying Olivia with him down to the ground. They couldn't see out to the river or the bank on the other side.

Olivia brought herself up to a crouched position beside him. She looked terribly weary and sore. "Don't say a word," she mouthed, then cocked her head to listen for the gang. The dogs were still barking. Elliot could hear the men shouting and splashing. He looked toward the sun and looked back at Olivia, whose eyes were now shut.

_I would die for her, _he thought. _But then what?_

The sounds grew closer and his breath quickened.


	2. Chapter 2

They waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the sounds of splashing diminished, leaving only the far-off shouts and the gurgle of the river. The light was beginning to change above them. Dusk was starting to fall.

"Liv, are you hungry?"

Elliot's ankle was throbbing. She had to notice his grimace. He closed his eyes and settled back on the ground. Steak. Potatoes. French fries. A greasy cheeseburger with extra onions and mustard. One of those big pretzels from the street vendors. God, he'd even eat one of Olivia's disgusting protein bars at this point. Anything sounded good.

Olivia shifted until she was lying beside him. The back of her hand brushed his. "I could go for Wendy's Big Bacon Classic right now. Three would work. A Frosty, too," she muttered. "Is your ankle any better?"

"No," he said honestly.

"Think we can stay here for the night?"

He sat up, wincing as his swollen ankle rubbed across the gravel. The brambles surrounding them were so thick, it was hard to see in any direction. "Yeah, I think we're good. Wish I had some of those blackberries," Elliot sighed. Olivia got the point, grunted and got up. She walked slightly stooped, like an old woman. _Broken ribs_, Elliot thought, watching her move towards the berries. She stuffed a monstrous amount of them in her mouth before bringing Elliot his share.

"You know, when we get back, Munch is toast for not accepting this case. I'm going to kick his ass seven ways to Sunday," Elliot said, through a mouthful.

Olivia just smiled. There was nothing else she could do. Everything had been so intense since that morning in the office. Funny what can be decided with the toss of a coin.

**Twelve Hours Earlier**

"Child prostitution ring. Or East Side rapist. Flip you for it, Elliot," Munch said, leaning on Olivia's desk.

"We'll be dead meat if Cragen finds out about this. Heads, you get the East Side case," said Elliot, folding his arms expectantly. "Liv flips."

Olivia grabbed the quarter, threw it up in the air and caught it neatly. She looked into his palm and shrugged. "Guess we've got a week of chasing down hillbillys ahead," she said. Elliot rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket, following her out the door.

"Hey! I want my quarter back!" Munch yelled, but they were out of earshot.

The warm summer air felt good. The precinct was air conditioned in a clinical sort of way. Elliot referred to it as Santa's Workshop, especially when they'd all be wearing sweaters in the middle of July. The mild outdoor air embraced both of them and buffeted the sounds of the honking taxis and the garbage trucks.

"So, how's things?"

He looked at her in the passenger seat. Olivia's face was all concern. "Things are getting back on an even keel, I guess. Just trying to keep my head above water," he replied.

"Oh."

She pulled a protein bar out of her bag and noisily unwrapped it. Elliot watched her, laughing to himself. It looked like a dog treat. The bar was so hard she could hardly chew it.

"Do you need some help?" he asked, trying not to look too amused. Olivia didn't answer and instead turned to look out the window. He liked her hair, the way the light caught it.

"This is the address, El. You almost drove right past it."

They parked and stared up at the rickety building. A panel truck was parked in front of it. Elliot knocked while Olivia peeked in the window. "Smells bad here. Not like a summer New York smell, either," she said. He sniffed the air and his stomach flip-flopped.

With a creak, the door opened a crack. A woman with her hair in a bandana stuck her head out. She had about three teeth.

"Who are you?" she asked in rough drawl. They held up their badges. The smell was obviously stronger behind the door and it was making Elliot's eyes water.

"Carl! Get over here! Some people want to see you!" the lady shouted, and opened the door wider. Olivia groaned. Elliot felt his breakfast bubble up his esophagus. The smell was so bad you could almost see it, like a blue haze. So when they walked into the dim room, both Elliot and Olivia were slightly disoriented, which was a bad thing. First there was a shove, then the cold sting of blue steel against bare skin.

"If y'all keep your mouth shut, nothing will happen," said a scruffy man. Elliot looked desperatly in what he believed was Olivia's direction. "If you don't keep your mouth shut, I'll kill you first and she'll watch you die."

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Elliot saw a dozen little dirty faces peering at him from a doorway. Children...none older than ten. He struggled miserably, but stopped when Olivia cried out in pain.

"Don't hurt her!"

"Then stop thrashing around. Doris, do you have the stuff?" the man asked over his shoulder. There came the sound of a tremendous struggle, that ended with a body hitting the floor like a sack of apples. The woman who opened the door approached Elliot with a bottle and a rag. He struggled in the man's grip, but couldn't escape the rag that covered his face. The world began to spin, and then it went very dark.

"Doris, let's get them in the truck. I need to make another pick-up today."

.

Elliot woke up first. They were in the back of a panel truck that was bumping its way down the road. He was woozy. His hands were bound. Olivia was lying on hr stomach, still out like a light.

"Wake up Liv. We're in a mess here."

She groaned and tried to sit up. "Oh God, where are we?"

"On the road. I don't know how long we've been out..can you look at my watch?"

He moved in front of her and she leaned over as best she could. "It's three. So we got to that house at what, nine in the morning? We've been in here for hours, I guess," Olivia said, leaning back against the side of the truck. Light spilled in through a crack between the cargo doors.

"When we come to a stop, I'm going to kick those doors open. Then we're going to run like hell. Oh, shit," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"My wallet, phone and gun are gone."

"So are mine!"

The truck hit an enormous bump, sending the two of them flying. Somehow, the knots on Olivia's hands came loose by sheer force. She was able to wriggle out and then untie Elliot. He flexed his fingers and the knuckles cracked.

They rode along for another hour. Elliot was wide awake, but Olivia was dozing again, leaning against him for comfort. Her quiet breathing soothed him. But when the truck stopped, she jerked awake. There was a sound of many voices, young and old, and dogs howling.

"Olivia, we wait for a door to shut...then we'll bolt, okay? Just stay right behind me," Elliot whispered into the cup of her ear. He felt her shiver slightly. They sat quietly for what seemed like an eternity until the noise quieted.

Elliot stood up and examined the door. It wasn't padlocked or chained. "Liv, stay behind me. I'll go on a three count..."

"I'm right here...just..."

"One...two, three!"

Elliot kicked harder than he ever had in his entire life. His ankle twisted slightly at the contact, but the adrenaline surging through his body overshadowed the pain. The doors swung open and they jumped out into the bright sunlight.

Bits of moonshine making equipment covered the scruffy yard. The house was ramshackle, like something from a cartoon. Chickens ran around all over the place. An outhouse leaned off the the left.

"Run!" Olivia said, breaking his daze at the sight. They dashed into the weeds and down a steep grade. An open field stood before them. "Be careful," she cautioned, before bolting across it. Elliot followed gamely. He heard dogs barking and shouts from the top of the hill.

On the other side of the field a river flowed. They ran in, splashing through the shallows.

"Are you sleeping?" Elliot asked. The moonlight had turned her form into a shadow. Olivia's eyes shimmered as she stared up at the sky.

"No, I'm not. I was hoping you were, though. El, you need to rest."

He yawned and said, "I was thinking..."

"About what?"

"We've talked more today than we have in months. I kind of missed you."

"I missed you too," she sighed. The wind rustled her hair slightly. "Virginia."

"Virginia?"

"I think that's where we are. That's the Shenandoah," she said. "It runs south to north."

They were quiet for a long time. Elliot loved Virginia because his parents used to bring him down to check out the battlefields. It was one thing he and his father could agree on. They'd stay in Manassas at the Holiday Inn and spend days walking around, looking at the historical markers. He wanted to tell Olivia about it, but she was sound asleep. Elloit moved next to her and pulled her into his arms, so she could use his body as a pillow.

They had to eat tomorrow. They had to untangle themselves from this mess. They had to get help, get those children in New York and see a doctor. He was as worried about his ankle as he was about her ribs.

Olivia yawned and cuddled next to Elliot. He watched her for a long time before he fell asleep, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Mildred Johnson was worrying over her withered pole beans when two bedraggled figures came into view. One was limping, the other slumped over. They moved slowly down her long driveway. She thought about going inside to get her daddy's pistol but something told her not to.

They came closer. Mildred realized they were man and woman. Their clothes were torn and ragged. The lady now seemed to be pulling the limping man along, their feet kicking up puffs of dirt from the dry summer road. A zither of wind stirred the tree tops and set her Uncle Sam whirligig in motion, sawing away at the tin dollar bill. The wind and the mechanical, tinny sawing sound were all she could hear.

Elliot watched the old lady in the blue house dress put down her watering can. Her little house was nothing more than a well-kept shotgun shack, but the clothes on the line and the lawn chairs looked so comforting his energy returned slightly. Olivia picked up her pace, too. The old lady was waving at them as all her lawn ornaments swayed in the breeze. The sun went behind a cloud, casting shadows from the pine trees that lined the country lane.

"Hello! Who are you? Where did you come from?"

They reached the edge of the yard, panting. Walking a mile when you're hurt is no picnic, but it's ten times worse in the humid air.

"I'm Olivia Benson and this is Elliot Stabler. We're lost and we haven't eaten and he's hurt," she said, breathing heavily.

"I'm Mildred Johnson and you both look like you were hit by a train," the old woman frowned, eyeing them up and down.

"We're police officers from New York. Our badges are gone, and you'll just have to believe us. Please," Elliot pleaded, looking as sincere as he could.

"Just as well," Mildred said. "You both come in and clean up and I'll fix you something to eat."

Elliot straggled in on one foot. He leaned on Olivia like a crutch until they reached the kitchen table. It could only seat two. Mildred was jabbering somewhere in the house, which was long and narrow.

"My husband died twenty years ago and I been on my own since then. Oh, I go to church and Mary from down the river road carries me to town on Wednesdays for groceries but mainly I listen to the radio and watch my stories."

Elliot rolled his eyes and looked around the kitchen. There was no phone. Just a daisy-shaped wall clock and an assortment of pot holders, Jello molds and Bundt cake pans all over the pale green wall.

"All right. Here are some towels and washclothes. My grandchildren left some clothes her last time. They're both great big kids, so the clothes might hang on y'all a little but at least they're clean," Mildred prattled in an uninterrupted stream of consciousness.

Olivia took first dibs on the shower and gratefully took a threadbare towel and washcloth. The hall was lined with pictures, mostly black and whites of dour looking people sitting in chairs on porches. A newer picture must have been Mildred's grandkids...boy and girl, obviously twins, both awesomely overweight. Two sets of t-shirts and sweatpants sat on a shelf in the small bathroom at the end of the hall. Olivia chose the set that looked a little more shrunken. Mildred had set out a fresh bar of Ivory Soap and a bottle of baby shampoo that looked at least fifteen years old.

There actually was no shower, just an ancient clawfoot tub and an old enamel saucepan. With a sigh, Olivia slowly eased herself carefully into the tub and let the hot water cover her body.

"So Mary always says I over-react when those preachers start asking for money but I honestly don't think - "

Mildred had Elliot trapped in the kitchen. He'd listened to her jabbering about soap operas and politicians and televangelists. She was force feeding him Oreo cookies and milk when she noticed his tattoo and started in on her husband's hitch in the Army in 1951. He could barely keep his eyes open but felt obligated to pay attention. It was starting to sound like Mildred was speaking a foreign language.

"Then every blackbird in Cross Keys swooped down and stole our pickling cucumbers - "

A half-hour later, Olivia emerged from the bath, pink and clean-smelling. She also looked like a melting candle in the clothes she had on. "My turn," Elliot said quickly, moving as fast as he could down the hall. He left Olivia in the kitchen to hear about 1938, aka The Year Without Pickles.

The bath water felt good against his skin. Elliot's ankle had turned a violent purple color and it was swollen about three times its normal size. His body was covered with cuts and scrapes, mainly from their run through the briars. He poured a saucepan full of water over his head and watched the dirt run off his face and into the soapy water.

Despite the warm water, Elliot's ankle stiffened so much it was a trial just to get out of the tub. The sweatpants went on easily, but he couldn't contort his foot enough to get the socks on. So he hobbled to the door and called Olivia's name down the hallway.

Mildred was on 1946, The Year the Mule Kicked Down the Barn Door. She stopped in mid-thought when Elliot called and said, "You better check on your friend." Olivia found Elliot sitting on the edge of the tub, wearing only sweatpants. She hesitated in the doorway.

"I need some help here, Liv. Could you get these socks on?" he asked, throwing her what were actually baby blue slipper socks Mildred had provided. Olivia knelt over to help him out and groaned.

"Oh, hey...Liv, take it easy. Sit down," Elliot said. She perched next to him on the side of the tub, trying to catch her breath. "I forgot. I'm sorry."

She shook her head and waved her hands. His ankle was the size of a grapefruit and now the color of a stormy sky. Olivia had her eyes locked on it and didn't feel him reaching over. Elliot lifted her shirt up past her ribcage and sighed. Her stomach was the same miserable color. He ran his hand across her warm skin. She was too shocked at his actions to say anything, and even if she could, a sharp knock at the door broke the moment in half.

"Can I help?" Mildred asked. Elliot's hand dropped and Olivia stood up quickly, wincing. She let Mildred in and left her to help Elliot squeeze his big feet into the size five socks. There had to be a phone somewhere in the house. The living room was done in modern old lady, complete with doilies on the chairs and glass jars full of petrified ribbon candy. Under a macrame plant hanger, Olivia spotted it...an orange rotary phone sitting next to a box of Kleenex.

"Now how about that lunch?" Mildred chirped. Elliot was lurching behind her gamely, the slipper socks threatening to fall off. "I hope you both like pimento cheese! Why don't you have a nice seat here in the parlor, and I'll call you when it's ready."

Elliot fell heavily on the old couch. Poor Olivia had to lower herself slowly into the dusty cushions. The clatter in the kitchen was a reassuring sound, but a horrible throught popped into Elliot's head. "Soon as we eat, we make a call and get out of here as fast as we can," he whispered. Olivia looked stunned.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to put Mildred in harm's way. For all we know, those hillbillies are still out there looking for us."

Olivia cast a long glance out the window behind them. He was right, she knew it. But it was comfortable just to convalesce and not have to sleep on the hard ground, even with Elliot as a pillow.

"At least I found the phone. We can just call Cragen and he can sort things out," Olivia reasoned. "Except...I don't feel comfortable with having the local cop shop involved. A moonshine operation that large can't just be overlooked, you know?"

"Lunch is ready!" Mildred called. It took the two of them a full five minutes to make it into the small kitchen. Lunch was Campbell's Soup, pimento cheese sandwiches on white and a glass of ice tea. Neither Elliot or Olivia had any experience with this kind of sandwich before, but they dug in as Mildred looked on approvingly.

"Y'all eat just like my grandchildren," she said, as they finished up. Elliot smiled and looked down to keep from laughing.

"Mildred, I want to ask you, is there a big moonshining problem around here?" Olivia asked, trying to be polite as possible.

"Always has been. They'd blow up the stills and they 'd just get built up again. Oh, there's some right shady folks up-river who don't associate with the townsfolk. Police just leave them alone," she said thoughtfully.

"How far away is town?"

Mildred popped a butterscotch candy in her mouth. "About five miles to West Fork. There's a hospital, a Wal-Mart, Ben Franklin...anything you need."

"So we're not in West Fork now," Elliot said.

"No. This is Undun. It was supposed to be West Fork but a big flood came through and washed away all the buildings. That's how we got our name. Spelling was not a priority back in those days, no sir," she cackled. "You didn't mess with those folks up in Slagtown, did you?"

"Sort of. Can we use your phone? We don't want to put you in any danger. And we'll pay you back for the long distance call. I don't know how, but we will," Olivia said. Mildred nodded and smiled.

"You really are poh-lice from New York, aren't you? That must be exciting. I went there once in 1948. We took the train - "

Olivia left Elliot to listen to the story and went to call Cragen. He strained to hear the conversation over Mildred's ramblings and was gratified that Olivia wasn't raising her voice at all. The click of the receiver in the cradle was followed by a sigh of relief.

"He's wiring some money down and sending some ATF guys out to that house," Olivia said, standing in the doorway.

"What about us?"

"State police have a cruiser enroute to pick us up and take us into town."

"You two should go to the hospital and get checked out before anything. You're both a mess," Mildred said, taking a bite of an Oreo. "And get a good night's sleep."

"Well, I don't think he'd object to us spending the night and seeing a doctor," said Olivia. "We both need X rays, at least."

"There's a motel just outside town my grand-neice owns. I'd let you guys stay here if I had the room," Mildred said. "I'll give her a call and see if we can't arrange anything."

"One other thing, El," Olivia continued, "Cragen wants us to keep a low profile. Very low."

Mildred packed their torn clothes and three more sandwiches in a plastic grocery bag. When the dark blue and grey cruiser pulled up, Elliot was afraid the old woman would cry. "We really will pay you back for your kindness. I promise," he said.

"I'm just doing the Lord's work. All I ever wanted to do in life was to live by the side of the road and be a friend to man," Mildred countered.

Olivia gingerly hugged her. Mildred whispered something in her ear Elliot couldn't quite catch, but it left Olivia with a puzzled but happy grin. When Mildred hugged Elliot, she didn't say a thing. She just looked sad as they climbed into the police car, and waved until they were out of sight.

West Fork was not how they pictured it. It was not quaint, it was not charming. The town was more of a highway waystation, complete with a Cracker Barrel and every fast food restaurant you could name. Trooper Douglas McEntire drove by the entire lot on the way to Carver County Memorial Hospital. The wind was picking up in earnest, and the sky was beginning to darken.

"That's a pretty small hospital," Elliot said when they pulled up. It was one old building on the side of a hill.

"Yeah, all the bad cases go to Winchester or get MedStared to Charlottesville. They're fine at fixing up strained ankles and busted ribs, though," Douglas said, smiling at Olivia in his rear-view mirror. He couldn't have been much older than 25. "I'm going to drop you guys off and see what the ATF recovered. I'll be back in an hour."

The X-ray confirmed Elliot's suspicions. His ankle wasn't broken, just terribly swollen and sprained. The doctor, who looked as old as the hospital, fitted him for a brace and chewed him out for walking on it. Olivia was in the ER much longer. Her doctor was worried that one of the broken ribs could punch a hole in her lung. He taped her up and left her sitting on an exam table while conferring with all the other doctors. Elliot came in on a crutch, his ankle now completely immobile.

"You okay?"

Olivia patted the space beside her on the table. The paper crinkled under Elliot's weight as he eased up. He could tell she was worried. Hell, he was really upset.

"So," he said, not really sure what she would want to hear. It came out like a sigh. To Elliot's surprise, she moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. "Maybe Cragen should trade us in on newer models."

She laughed a little, not lifting her head. Feeling bolder, Elliot took her hand in his own and rested them on his knee.

"It wouldn't work," she said, not moving away. Elliot jumped a little, wondering if he'd crossed some dumb boundary.

"What?" he mumbled, trying to keep his voice even.

"Cragen couldn't trade us in because no one would do this for the chickenscratch they pay us."

It was his turn to laugh, but before either of them could say anything else, the doctor came back in. Olivia sat up but didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she squeezed his hard, and he squeezed back.

"Miss Benson, everything looks good. I will suggest that you see your doctor when you get back to New York, though. For now, we'll tape you up and give you your walking papers," the doctor said, winking at Elliot. He untangled his hand from hers.

When Olivia's midsection was completely immobile, they met up with Trooper McEntire again. He'd picked up some clothes for them at Wal-Mart and handed them an envelope full of cash. "Your captain has set up a rental for you guys that can be picked up tomorrow," he said.

"Where are we going to sleep?"

"Miss Johnson arranged for a special rate for you at Sandy Bottom Inn, down on the river. They only had one vacancy, though. Sorry," said the trooper, shrugging. Elliot felt a little embarassed. They walked through the parking lot, not noticing a red pickup truck that cruised by slowly, that followed them to Arby's and halfway down to Sandy Bottom before turning on a side road.


	4. Chapter 4

She was in pain that night, although Olivia wouldn't admit to it. Every time Elliot looked at her, anger bubbled up in his stomach. His pain medicine seemed to be working but it didn't dull this constant ache. Whoever did this to her was going to pay. Dearly.

He sighed, trying to cover his dark rage. Olivia was sitting uncomfortably beside him and propelling the glider back and forth with her toes. It hit the motel's stucco wall when it swung back, sending little white chips on the sidewalk. The rocking motion was soothing; the rusty creak the glider made was not.

The motel was outdated and decrepit in an almost merry way. The white stucco walls and the bright red shutters gave the little individual cottages a homey look. There were window boxes with geraniums spilling out. The furniture was Fifties motel-modern, wearing the scuffs and bangs of fifty years spent chafing shins. The bed bowed in the middle and squeaked incessantly when you walked the floor. A honeymoon palace it wasn't. But it was out of the weather, had a shower and the proprietor gave them cupcakes at check-in.

Now Elliot and Olivia just sat, waiting for the storm to hit. It was off in the distance, a vague gray membrane suspended over the mountains. The wind was stirring the treetops. Someone was listening to Johnny Rivers. The music floated out an open window.

"El, you okay?"

"Nah. I'm getting there, though."

His fists clenched...and released. He stared over at Olivia, noting how dull her eyes had become. That was her medication, a strong muscle relaxer that rendered her almost catatonic but still aching. "Guess we won't go dancing tonight, huh?" he asked, trying to bring himself back down to earth.

"Dancing," she said. He waited for more, but none was coming. The wind began to blow cold. A shutter banged somewhere.

"Let's go in. C'mon. I'll help you up," he said, standing up slowly with help of a crutch. He put his hands on Olivia's elbows and pulled her up, hoping she wouldn't wince or cry out. Olivia lurched forward and he caught her delicately, pulling her into his arms. "I've got you," Elliot breathed, feeling her totter slightly. She rested her chin on his chest. They stood there just like that for a moment of suspended animation. His heart was beating so hard her head practically bounced.

_Empty nights, I call your name..._

_Sometimes I wonder, girl, if I'll ever be the same._

"Sorry," she said lamely. "I've got two good feet but I'm a little floppy." Olivia broke contact and opened the door, not taking her eyes off him.

The storm hit suddenly, almost as soon as they shut the door. Thunder rocked the still air. The rain fell in sheets, almost immediately causing the gravel parking lot to flood.

"God," Elliot murmered. It wasn't so much about the storm, it was a prayer to deliver him from the temptation of jumping Olivia's bones. She was on the bed, trying to scoot into a more comfortable position. The light from the bedside table caught her hair, making it almost blonde. Olivia was wearing a purple t-shirt and grey sweatpants from Wal-Mart. Elliot's outfit was almost identical, except for his blue shirt.

He stood at the window for a long time, watching the lightning. Olivia was shuffling papers behind him in a business-like fashion. She read the comics every Sunday, he knew that, but she always tried to deny it. Sometimes he'd finish her crossword puzzles, lay them on her desk and put a sticky on them that said "ha ha". Olivia Benson was very Type A in a sense...but she'd led a very Type B life. Maybe if it were anyone else, Elliot would have been more affectionate. Given his partner's past, he just wasn't sure how she'd interpret it. At her worst, she was frightening in her intensity. She'd forget to eat, sleep, everything. One night he had to practically scream at her to go home, sleep and eat something. More often than that, he'd just order something and share it with her. Sometimes his temper would win out.

Kathy couldn't understand this, but Olivia did. And when Kathy left, he couldn't look at Olivia without blaming her a bit. For what, he wasn't so sure. It wasn't like he didn't love Kathy, but love changes sometimes. There had been no passion left. All the color had drained out of their relationship until they were just two black and white blobs that dwelled in each other's space. He found himself lying in bed next to his wife and wondering if they'd make it another week, another month. Olivia was his "work wife", as Kathy put it. So while one relationship thrived, another faltered. This made Kathy wonder aloud on several occasions about his feelings for Olivia, which sent him into a vase-smashing, door-slamming fury.

A crash of thunder threw him back into the present.

"Says here in the police log they were at Undun four times in the past week, responding to assault calls and a warrant for unlawful weapons possession in Florida," Olivia said, tapping a pencil against the paper.

"See, they're upstanding citizens. When we get back to New York, they're going to wish their corn-pone asses were back down here dealing with Barney Fife and Andy Taylor," Elliot hissed, turning around. She saw the anger in his eyes and changed the subject..

"It's nine. Let's just get some sleep and we'll deal with it all in the morning," she said, pushing the paper on the floor.

Elliot began to panic a little internally. He inched across the room, slipped in beside her and clicked off the light. Save for the lightning, the room was completely dark.

"Long storm," he said.

"Uh huh."

"Need anything?"

"Nope."

His instinct was to shrink down to nothingness. Instead, he hung on the side of the bed and knew she was doing to same.

"Wish Munch and Fin could see us now," she chuckled.

"Oh, they'd love this. They're like two old women sometimes. Casey'd get a charge out of, too."

Elliot shut his eyes tight. He wanted to kiss her, maybe make her forget all the men that had treated her so poorly in the past. Somehow, he thought he could make her forget everything except the inches of space between them. He felt the bed move, and knew she was moving inward, closer to him.

"El...I don't know how to ask you this...and I've never figured out the right time..."

"What?" he said, trying to cover the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Did Kathy say anything about me when you two split up?"

Elliot felt her hand on his arm. How could he tell her that she'd been the number-two reason for the relationship's end?

"She thought we worked together too much...too late...," he stammered, not wanting to lie but not exactly wanting to tell the truth, either.

"Oh," she said quietly, and her hand dropped away.

"Liv, Kathy and I just ended. There was nothing there anymore. To blame you would be like blaming Cragen for letting us work late."

_But is that really the truth?_

They were quiet for a long time. He heard Olivia's breathing even out and felt her body relax against the mattress. His eyelids dropped and soon he surrendered to the Sandman.

XXXXXXXXX

Elliot woke up two hours later and groggily noted something was leaning on him. He expected to be at home and the weight to be Kathy's until his brain caught up with his sense of touch. No, this wasn't his wife. It was Olivia, her face in the crook of his shoulder and her arm slung over his stomach. His arm had settled on hers.

Her breath was warm against the bare skin of his neck. Elliot wondered how she could possibly be comfortable in that position, given her ribs. It was still raining. The safety lights in the parking lot threw watery shadows across them.

Olivia's shirt was low on her shoulder. He could see the skin at the base of her neck in the sporadic glow of the lightening. It was caramel-colored and he could easily reach it by dropping his head just a tad. The temptation was too great. He tried to deny it, tried the mentally beat himself out of it, but it wouldn't work. So he dipped his head and rested his lips against her skin. She didn't move. He ran his tongue cautiously along her skin for a few centimeters until he heard a groan. All the pressure in his brain that had been building up was beginning to let go.

Olivia's head moved and he looked up, bumping his nose on hers. Her eyes were open and scared, probably matching his.

"I lied earlier," he mumbled.

"I know," was all she said. He wrapped another arm around her and wondered what to do next.

But before he could say or do anything, the sharp sound of a gunshot ripped through the air.

Crashing glass.

Screeching tires.

Silence.


	5. Chapter 5

Elliot's arms tightened around Olivia for the briefest second. The sound of the tires screeching hadn't died out but it was beginning to fade into the sounds of the wind howling.

"Elliot...are you..."

"No. You're okay?" Olivia nodded and sat up cautiously. Their window was intact and so were they. Elliot could see her eyes reflecting in the darkness. He could even feel the heat from her body, but was confused about what had just happened. In one quick moment, she was throwing on her shoes and heading toward the door. They didn't have any guns, badges, nothing. Elliot, brain still foggy, followed suit.

Others came out of their cabins, looking like zombies milling around on the pavement. Many were in threadbare bathrobes, some just wore what they were probably wearing that day. The hotel's owner came bolting out of the home that centered the little cabins. She was running out of her pink slippers and dropping pink curlers at every step.

"What happened here? Who's shooting at my storage room?" she puffed. Her flashlight made the glass twinkle around an abandoned dwelling.

"Did you call police?" Elliot asked, poking at the glass with the bottom of a crutch.

"No. But I will," the bedraggled lady said. She tried to light a cigarette but it buckled in half.

"Call the state barracks. Tell them the two NYPD cops said to call so they can get tire prints before the rain washes them away," Olivia demanded. The owner shrugged and disappeared into the gathering mist.

"You can go back to bed. These people won't come back," Elliot told the crowd. Sirens were getting closer, a comforting sound for him. It was steamy-hot and the rain just added to the misery. New York had plenty of nights like this, where the streets smelled like wet copper, the scent of blood.

The troopers arrived and took their witness statements and the tire imprints. Elliot and Olivia watched over them and were satisfied with the job.

"We're pretty sure who did this. It's just a question of getting to the truck. These cruisers won't make it out to Undun in the mud. We'll patrol til morning, then borrow a game warden SUV," one of the troopers said as they were leaving.

"We appreciate it. NYPD owes you guys big time," said Olivia, shaking hands.

"Nothing doing. You guys have been through enough in the past few years."

"Nice guys," Elliot said as the cars pulled away. A plane passed low overhead. They could hear it but couldn't see it."I guess we should get some sleep at least."

They were both soaked through. Olivia ended up in a pair of boxer shorts and a UVA t-shirt. Elliot just wore the boxer shorts. They crawled back into bed cautiously, almost nervously. Then, very slowly, he began to relax and reached for her.

"I think it's funny," she said, resting her head on his chin.

"What?"

"Here we are, now...I've worked with you for years...and I don't feel like I know you at all sometimes."

"Oh, come on. You know enough," he mumbled into her hair.

It was true. Elliot didn't know her favorite song, her favorite book. He didn't know the name of her first boyfriend or her best friend. What Olivia didn't know about him could fill a thimble. But this flesh and blood beneath his fingers was as new to him as her face had been all those years ago. All those nights he'd lay next to Kathy, stone cold, thinking about Olivia and wondering if they'd survive to the end of the week. Those nights he'd wake up in a sweat from dreaming she'd been shot and on her last fluttering breath she'd speak his name. Maybe Olivia didn't need him, but he needed her. His heart was ready to burst at some moments when she was around. It was only his military discipline that kept him from showing it.

_I will be here as long as you need me to. Maybe I'm not who you want. Would you just let me in sometimes? _

They were locked in an eternal tug of war. Their feelings often clashed. Sometimes they said things to one another you wouldn't say to your worst enemy. They played games with each other. They could even be borderline violent with each other. But deep in his heart, Elliot knew she needed him. And it would take more time. Anything this violent and passionate would end in tragedy. His heart ached at the thought.

Elliot looked down to see that Olivia had closed her eyes. One tear leaked from the corner of his eye and splashed on her cheek. He was grateful she was so content in his arms. The tear glistened like a diamond on her skin. He kissed it away and closed his own eyes, dreading the sun.

XXXXXXXXXX

She was gone when he did wake up. _Trying to find some breakfast, _a note attached to his lamp said. The sleep had worked its restorative powers and Elliot actually felt whole and human.

He was washing his face when Olivia came back in, breathing heavily.

"Muffins. From Mrs. Falbo in the hotel office," she puffed, throwing down the bag. She heaved herself onto the bed. Elliot wiped his face and sat down beside her, his attention on the muffins.

"Thanks. Why are you so out of breath?"

"I re-wrapped the bandages this morning and they're a little tight. Give me a minute so I can fix them, okay?"

She walked into the bathroom and began reciting a stream of soft curses under her breath. Elliot got up and hesistated before rapping on the door.

"Need help?"

Olivia didn't answer. She was still cussing and ripping tape. He was about to walk away when the door opened a crack. "El, I'm having trouble getting this tape on. I think I need your help," she whispered. He walked in to find her in a bra and and the now-dry sweatpants she had on the night before. The tape was still half-wrapped around her stomach.

"You look like a mummy," Elliot cracked. Olivia didn't smile. Instead, she handed him the tape and scowled.

Elliot tried to be gentle, but tape doesn't separate from skin easily. With every pull, she cried out, and when she was finally tape-free, he got a good look at her injured area. "That looks terrible," he said. "I wish we had some cold packs or something to bring the swelling down."

"Just wrap me up. I don't need a running commentary."

Elliot shrugged and began to wind the tape around her soft skin. The feel of it against his the night before came back in a wave of pleasure that made him dizzy. He took his time, not wanting to hurt her.

When he was done, she looked at his handiwork in the mirror. "It's perfect. I can breathe." His gaze rested on her breasts. Olivia caught his gaze and held it in her own. She had a look in her eyes he'd never seen before, a look that almost made him think it would be okay to kiss her and make love on the pink tiles that covered the bathroom floor.

Elliot hobbled out of the bathroom quickly. He was losing control. The door slammed behind him, but not before he could see Olivia's confused look. He drove his fist into the wall, knocking out a few chips of plaster. The action brought him back around to reality. The bathroom faucet came on full blast. Maybe she hadn't heard.

He sat on the side of the bed and buried his face in his hands. Elliot's knuckles shed little drips of red on the white bedspread.


	6. Chapter 6

"Wanda June Breeden, come on down!"

Waiting for the rental car seemed like an eternity. Elliot was sprawled on the bed, restlessly watching "The Price Is Right". Olivia, who hated game shows, sat beside him, flipping through the phone book. Nothing had been said about their time in the bathroom that morning. It was hard to push it out of his mind, but Elliot was intent on immersing himself in the garish happenings with Bob Barker and crew.

Ever since they'd been in Virginia something had changed between them. Not to say they weren't always close. But lately their relationship had been that damn emotional push-pull. She'd want to be friendly, he'd want to be distant. Then it would switch. She'd pushed too hard about the divorce and that sent Elliot into a fighting stance. While Olivia often offered up very little about her personal life she expected everyone else to be completely open about theirs. He pushed her away mentally and physically by denying any sort of touch between them. Olivia countered back by being cold and distant and requesting to work with Fin. Fin knew exactly what was going on but kept his mouth shut, ever the gentleman.

Their first attempt at a semi-reconciliation was over a coffee Elliot bought for her. Then she bought him lunch. Then they played cards. Slowly the lines of communication opened up again. And now here they were, sitting on a bed in a cheap hotel, reading the phone book and watching afternoon television on a blood-speckled comforter. His knuckles were wrapped in toilet paper. Yes, she'd heard the hit and gave him a strange look when she came out of the bathroom. Oddly, she didn't say a word.

"I think that's our car," Olivia said suddenly, nudging a dozing Elliot. A white Explorer had pulled up and an Enterprise emoployee was wandering from door to door. She bolted to the door and signed the papers.

Elliot realized they must look like a prototypical cheap motel couple. He was shirtless, Olivia's hair was damp and the room was covered with fast food wrappers. They were both bruised up and zonked on medicine. All he needed was a few teeth missing. All Olivia needed were some pink sponge curlers and a cigarette.

"Well, Mister and Missus Stabler, here's my ride. Glad we could help you out. Enjoy your honeymoon," the rental guy said, before turning away. They both looked at each other and nearly burst out laughing as the Kia drove away.

"An Explorer, huh. Someone's spending some big money on us. I was expecting two go-karts and a can of gasoline," Elliot said, beginning to pack their meager belongings.

"We've got to get to the Western Union office to get our petty cash. The first thing I plan on doing is filling that prescription. Then I'm going to buy every magazine they have for the drive back," Olivia smiled. They checked out, saying their goodbyes to Mrs. Falbo and her cat. They both had a terrible time getting into the SUV, but at least Elliot could drive with his good right foot.

Wal-Mart was home to the Western Union center. Olivia was also gratified to see they also had a pharmacy, so she tottered off as Elliot picked up their allowance. Elliot then bought a box of donuts and shovelled them into his mouth as he gawked at all the stuff. He was in the microwaves when Olivia found him. She'd already taken a dose of meds, as evidenced by the bottle of root beer she was toting.

"How many donuts have you had so far?" she asked, looking doubtfully at the box.

"About six."

"You're wearing about three," she smirked. Before he could lift a hand to his face, she stepped close. He instictively bent over, and she licked a smear of cream filling off his face.

They locked eyes. Danger, danger, danger. Olivia turned her head first, obviously embarrassed. "I need a new microwave," she said quickly, pretending to look at the display.

"Yeah," was all Elliot could manage. He just stared at the floor.

"Stabler? Benson?"

They turned in the direction of the deep voice. A state trooper was in the aisle. Had he been there the entire time?

"I'm Sergeant Brown. We've been looking all over for you. There's something that happened this morning I think you guys need to know about," he said, shaking their hands. "I don't know if it's connected to you, but it's...well, you'll just have to see for yourself."

They followed him into the vast parking lot. "Where are we going?" Elliot asked, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Nowhere a four wheel drive can't handle."

Virginia is a gorgeous place any time of year, but sometimes Mother Nature plays cruel jokes on its natives. Most summer days are mild and slightly humid. Nothing a dip in a pool can't handle. But this day was a real nasty one. The storms from the night before had not cooled the air at all. A wall of low, black clouds menaced from the mountains. Lightning lit up their underbellies. The air was so still nothing could move. Leaves hung limp on trees and wavy lines of heat flowed from the blacktop. The streets were deserted. The population bounced from air conditioner to air conditioner and probably lingered over lunch longer than usual, stalling to stay in the cool air.

Elliot looked at those ominous clouds and sighed. They made him wish he was reading a good book in his basement. And what the hell was she doing, licking his face in an appliance aisle?

Olivia grunted from the passenger seat. The SUV was drifting over the center line. He quickly righted them and hoped she couldn't read his mind.

They turned off on a side road and switched to four wheel drive. The red clay squashed all over the windshield as they bumped along. "This must be a river access road or something," Elliot mumbled. He was right. They reached the muddy bank soon enough. A coroner was there, other cops and an ambulance.

"What the...," Olivia asked no one but herself. Elliot's crutches sank into the soft bank. He felt oddly at home in the usual bustle of activity that surrounds a crime scene. He held up the crime tape for Olivia to limbo under and crossed under himself. Sgt. Brown waved them over towards the ambulance.

"Five of them," the sergeant said, shaking his head.

"Five what?" asked Olivia, looking around. Someone snapped a photo close to them and Elliot felt her jump a little.

"Kids...the coroner thinks they were thrown from the river bridge a few days ago. They don't belong to anyone around here."

The color drained from their faces.

"All of them were naked, no real identifying marks. One was wearing this, though," said Sgt. Brown. he held up a Ziploc bag with a rubber bracelet inside. "It says NYCM."

"New York City marathon. I have one...at home," Olivia said. She looked sick.

"Brown, can I use your phone? I need to call Cragen and get Munch and Fin over to that townhouse with a SWAT team," Elliot said. Cragen agreed to get the team in motion, but would Virginia police be willing to do the same thing? While Olivia was looking at the bodies, he was able to convince Brown to talk to his superiors.

"We should probably stay in town another night," Elliot said when Olivia returned. She nodded, looking a little sick. "Guess we could stay back at that fleabag."

Sgt. Brown smiled. "Nah. You're not safe there. We've got a Holiday Inn up on the strip. It's interior corridors, passkeys...the works. You're a guest of Virginia State P-D as long as you need to be. But you might want to double up again, just in case, you know? And our hotels are pretty full up due to the Bluegrass Festival in Monterey, up the road."

Their drive back to town was quiet. Olivia twisted her watch around her wrist, presumably thinking about that bracelet.

"Five kdis. I can't believe sometimes there's just that much evil in this world," she sighed. Elliot gave her a sidelong glance.

"I know what you mean. It's hard to find the good things in life. Because there aren't many in our line of work - in our lives," Elliot frowned. "Except you."

Olivia's head shot up. 'Except me what?"

"You're a good thing in my life. Sometimes when I come against a brick wall, I always remember you've probably got an answer. And I push you away sometimes and I'm sorry."

Olivia blushed and let her head whack the back of the seat.

_I just want to feel you in my arms, taste your skin and make you forget what's happened in your life up until this very minute._

"You never said to me last night why exactly Kathy left. It wasn't all me, was it? It couldn't have been," Olivia said, her eyes shut.

The pit of Elliot's stomach fell out. He didn't want to lie. But how could he tell the truth? He jerked the wheel and the Explorer came to a shuddering stop on the soft shoulder. Before Olivia could think, act or speak, Elliot was out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Oh, he was mad. More at himself than anything else. Call it good old Catholic guilt. Elliot paced around a grove of pine trees five times before he was ready to go back to Olivia. The calm air and the scent of the evergreens slowly cleared his head.

She could make him so mad sometimes with just the slightest sardonic twitch of an eyebrow. They often fought like three year olds in a playpen.

But God, he loved her. What Kathy lacked in personality, she made up for in loyalty. Olivia was a true character, more of a manipulator than Kathy and at times unpredictable, angry, stubborn and loving. She didn't race out of the truck after him because she knew that would make the situation worse. Olivia and Elliot were very much alike, but he marvelled at her compassion, just as many men marvelled at her tight t-shirts. Not that he minded those, really.

The thought made Elliot smile. He picked his way through the briars and back to the truck.

She was sitting in the passenger seat, dozing with head against the window. For some dumb reason she was listening to an oldies station, something she'd never admit to in her waking hours. He slid into the driver's seat quietly and prayed she wouldn't wake up. The Fifth Dimension played softly as he carefully put the Ford in gear and pulled back on the county road. The band was one of his pet peeves.

_But if I could reach you, some way_

_If I knew the magic it would take..._

Olivia stirred slightly, mumbling something. He reached over and brushed a piece of hair off her forehead.

Where would she go? Would they meet up again as acquaintances years down the road, or would they not even recognize each other twenty years from now, passing on the street? Those friends you were close to in elementary school...you sleep at their house, dig through their fridge, go to the pool...would you know them now? She'd be just another face in the crowd if things didn't change soon.

His prayers were answered because Olivia slept the whole way back to town. The state police barracks were homey, with the usual smells of coffee and industrial floor cleaner. He dragged Olivia in and she immediately went back to sleep on a vinyl couch in a waiting area.

"You wearing that girl out?" asked Sgt. Brown. He was leaning back in his chair, feet on his desk, eating a baloney sandwich and drinking an RC. Elliot just shook his head on concentrated on a bag of chips. "Pretty girl like that's got to have a boyfriend or something."

Or something. Yeah, she's got something alright, Elliot thought. "She dates a lot. I don't ask," he smiled. Brown just nodded and finished his sandwich. "I'm getting divorced, so she's kind of on the receiving end of everything from me lately," Elliot heard himself say. The words just kind of leapt from his mouth.

"Oh. Well, I'm on my third wife. This line of work is tough on relationships, I know that. I'm sure your wife wasn't real pleased to see you working with Olivia so much either," said Brown.

"No, not really. But our split was inevitable. I was worried about the kids, but they seem to be adjusting to it."

Brown leaned forward in his chair. "I'm retiring next year," he said, in a low tone. "My wife and I are sick of the whole damn thing. We bought some land and I think I'll get into carpentry or something."

"No way. That's not bad."

"I never thought I'd be almost sixty and still doing this. Best thing you could do is get out while you still can. Get out of police work and don't look back. Buy some land, have a farm, see your kids, travel, what have you. Maybe your friend in there would split it with you. Never know, do you?"

Brown was right. Elliot was burning out. Sometimes the thought of coming to work made him physically ill. Munch had his bar and Fin was so damn mysterious no one knew what he did but that was okay. Elliot had his kids and the job. Olivia had..the job, but she rarely complained. And if there really ever was something between them, one of them would have to give the job up. Olivia said she'd never marry a cop, ever.

My God, could he see himself marrying her now?

The coffee became bitter and he nearly spat it back into the cup. Brown now knew more about their relationship than anyone else. Okay, maybe Munch knew more.

_"So you're divorced now,' Munch said, sipping a Coke. The leaves crunched underneath their feet that fall day._

_"Yeah."_

_"Welcome to the club. Not that it's anything you ever wanted to join."_

_Elliot's breath hitched in his throat. He thought of the holes in the walls where he'd thrown the doors open, sending the knobs smashing through the drywall. The vase smashed on the floor. The red marks on Olivia's arms where he'd gripped her too hard, and how they faded away into vague brown bruises. _

_"I guess you and Olivia are on the outs, too."_

_He looked at Munch, startled. The other detective stared straight ahead. _

_"Nah, we're not on the outs. You and Fin don't always get along all the time," Elliot said, with a hint of finality in his voice. He wanted Munch to drop the subject._

_Leave me alone, he had shouted. His hands dug into the pale flesh of her arms as the world swam in front of his eyes. When that cleared, he was able to see Olivia Benson., tears clouding her brown eyes. "Liv, I'm..."_

_"Save it," she said. He dropped his hands and she walked away briskly, rubbing her arms. _

_"Elliot, I know there's some unresolved issues between you and Liv. But I've seen the way she looks at you and it's different than the way she looks at anyone else," Munch shrugged. They had reached the precinct. "Don't let her leave you."_

They were silent on the way back to their new hotel. The room was large and a bit more cheerful than their living quarters the night before. Elliot was famished again, so he immediatly dug into the styrofoam containers of food Sgt. Brown had picked up for them. Olivia picked at her chicken sandwich and moved restlessly, peering out the window at the water tower or trying to adjust her bandages.

"You gonna finish that shake?"

She pushed the tall cup toward him and laid down on the bed. Olivia was quiet for a long time, but spoke up just as Elliot was finishing his dinner. "You never answered me today when I asked about Kathy," she mumbled, almost pouting.

"Liv, what do you want me to say?"

"I just want the truth from you," she sighed, turning her back to him. Elliot settled next to her and flipped on the television. He knew Olivia well enough to know when she was extremely exasperated. She just seemed tired now. There was nothing to do but watch an old "Saturday Night Live" rerun and contemplate what he would say when the time came. When Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel began singing 'Scarborough Fair", he felt Olivia move. She hoisted herself to a sitting position and bent painfully towards the TV.

"If you listen close enough, there's pretty twisted stuff going on in the background of that song. When my mom used to play it, I'd cover my ears when it came to the killing part," Olivia said, tracing the design of the comforter with her fingertips.

"Do you feel sometimes like you're getting burnt out?" she asked suddenly.

Elliot sighed and moved beside her on the bed. "I feel that way all the time now," he said quietly. "Five kids dead...people getting raped, strangled, mutilated, beaten...guy gets a violin bow up his ass."

Paul Simon plucked out the last chords and Elliot clicked off the television. The room was dark. "I was talking about retirement today with Brown. Problem is, I don't know what the hell I'd do with my time," he said. Olivia laughed a little. "Maybe I'd move somewhere like this and just, I don't know, withdraw a bit."

"I'd go nuts in a small place like this," she said.

"You just have to adjust your thinking."

"Guess it's not going to storm tonight," Olivia yawned.

"Nope," Elliot said, taking off his shirt. Olivia was struggling with something; he imagined she was taking off her bra, doing the Houdini act under her shirt. She fell back on the the pillow, exhaling loudly. Elliot stared at the ceiling for awhile, then concentrated on the blinking red light on the television set. Olivia flopped around a little. He gathered his courage and pulled her close, so her chin rested on his collarbone and her hot breath warmed his neck.

She was still for a minute, then softly began running her knuckles up and down his chest. Shocked as he was, the action was soothing. He cupped her face in his free hand and stroked her hair. The movement on his chest slowed, then stilled, and her hand came to rest on his stomach.

"Hate to tell you this, but your suspect's home burned down last night. Looks deliberate, like they moved everything out and torched it," Sgt. Brown said, scratching his head.

Olivia reluctantly toed a charred stuffed animal. The remains of the shack smouldered in the misty daylight. A pair of coonhounds sniffed around in the weeds for clues, their handler trying to keep up with the lanky pace. Investigators snapped pictures, deputies unrolled crime tape and a helicopter buzzed overhead. Funny, it was almost comforting to Elliot because this was his realm. His ankle kept him from moving around the muddy yard very much, but Olivia was mixing and mingling in the crowd. One of the dogs lost interest in the search and bounded up to her, spraying slobber all over a five foot radius. Elliot struggled up as Olivia began to pet the dog.

"Hey. I see you made a new friend."

"I need all the friends I can get," she smiled. "Do we need to be here?"

"I think we can go home. These people are long gone, and with any luck, they'll be back on our turf soon," he said. Olivia said her goodbye to Sgt. Brown and headed back for the truck.

"Don't forget, my job's going to be open next year. You should put your hat in the ring, son. Bring her, too, so I can marry her," said Brown, gesturing in Olivia's direction. He burst out laughing at Elliot's shocked expression. "I'm just kidding. She's yours."

They shook hands and Elliot watched Brown walk away and start yelling at one of the local cops. Olivia said something over the din and his attention shifted to her. She looked so small and sick, her skin a ghastly pale against her yellow t-shirt.

"You feel okay to drive?" he asked.

"You look like hell, Elliot. I slept a lot yesterday, so I should be fine for awhile."

They pulled away, not taking a last glance at the crime scene. Elliot rested his head on the window and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep, instead, his mind raced as all the things he wanted to say came tumbling together. The scenery whipped by. The freshly tilled fields of red clay, the small-town cemetaries...

"I'm going to buy Mildred a TV when we get back. For helping us, I mean, she had a twelve inch black and white," OIivia said.

"OK. I'll chip in on that," Elliot said, stretching out. They both stared straight ahead. The sky had turned a bruised gray and the wind was blowing.

"It was you."

Olivia's head snapped in his direction. For a moment, his words hung silently in the air, bouncing off the truck's interior.

"Kathy thought you and I were too close. The job she could handle. But the night we decided to split up, she told me that I'd changed too much since I met you. That my relationship with you was ruining my married life. But Liv, I told her we never..."

He stopped talking. Olivia pulled over and cut the truck off. She seemed stunned.

"Look, you asked me if I was burned out," he continued. "Sometimes it takes all my energy to show up at the precinct. "Things are so damn complicated right now. There's going to come a time when I can't handle it, when I'll put down my gun and badge forever and let someone else protect my friends and family. That time's coming soon, Liv, and I worry about you."

Olivia looked up. "Kathy thought we had a relationship? But she knew...we've never...," she sputtered.

"I told her we were professionals. Friends, maybe. But there was nothing between us."

Olivia put her hands over her eyes for a long minute. Then she bolted from the truck, as Elliot had the day before. He watched her retreat towards a tiny pond ringed with tall weeds that were weighed down by the dampness of the air. She disappeared around a cockeyed shed near the water's edge. The water lapped at the weedy banks, pushed by the winds.

He knew she needed to be alone, but there was still much to say. So he found her behind the shed, arms folded, looking at the sky. Tears ran down her cheeks. He stood beside her, staring at a ramshackle farmhouse across a field.

"Liv, whatever exists between you and me is no one's business except ours."

Their eyes met. "We shouldn't be talking about this," she said, in a hiccupping sob.

The wind was blowing steadily now. The sound of the water became more insistant. Elliot moved purposely into her space.

"I don't want us just to be faces on the street years down the road, always wondering why this couldn't happen. And if it didn't work, well, we'd know it wasn't meant to be," he said. His gaze returned to the little farmhouse. He could see it with a new coat of paint and the front door open, the lawn mowed and the summer air circulating through the living room as the TV droned in the kitchen. Elliot wanted this so badly.

"We can never...," Olivia said, her body shaking convulsively. "You've got anger issues, I've got anger issues...relationships aren't our strong point. We'd never work."

"We've worked this long."

"I can't, Elliot, I'm sorry," she said, and began walking away.

"Goddammit, Olivia, don't walk away from this!"

She stopped in her tracks but didn't look toward him. He wobbled to where she stood. A stinging rain was now falling. Elliot grabbed her wrists and held her arms to his chest. The weeds rippled like waves all around them.

She struggled to free herself. Olivia's watery eyes flashed viciously. "Let me go! Bastard!" she said.

Realizing what was happening, Elliot dropped her arms and hung his head. He couldn't look at her now. The wind blew cool on his back.

It felt like suspended animation. He expected her to turn around and go back to the car. But they just stood there as the rain fell harder. He was so intent on staring at the ground, Elliot jolted when he felt a hand on his cheek. It was Olivia. She wasn't crying anymore. Elliot wrapped his arms around her and she reciprocated.

"I dream about you sometimes," she said, in a whisper he could barely hear.

Their lips met. She tasted like the rain. It was a complicated, wonderful kiss. The weight of the past years began to lift away a little. Elliot felt her tongue against his, her body crushed against his body. When they finally pulled away, he looked over her shoulder at the little house across the field, standing resolute and lonely in the rain and wind.

"It's nobody's business," Elliot whispered in her ear. She nodded, pressing her face against his chest. Everything had narrowed down to this pinpoint in the universe.

He took her hand and led her into the shed. It was full of hay.

They stood facing each other, unable to say anything. She reached for him first.

He'd never forget the smell of the damp grass and the sound of the rain splattering on the surface of the little pond. He'd never forget the sound of her labored breathing in his ear or the love she finally gave so freely. And when they climbed back in the truck, Elliot took one long, last sad glance at the little farmhouse and decided they'd be back someday. Somehow.

It was a long drive back to New York. They talked the whole time, never realizing what implications their new lives would have, or how it would mean the end of a career fought for on so many occasions.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Two months later**_

She was asleep beside him, breathing softly. The streetlight was out, but the stars cast their light through the window, bathing her in an almost eerie golden glow.

Elliot had known Olivia to be a fitful sleeper. Sometimes on stakeout, she'd doze and jolt awake at the sound of every plane or laugh that passed by. He once estimated she spent a hundred dollars a month on coffee and wasn't too far off mark. But things were different them.

Now here she was, sprawled face-down, arms spread. Olivia had unconsciously kneed him in the balls twice that night, and here it was only three am. A siren had passed by the window and startled Elliot out of his own sound sleep. He was wearing the same pair of sweats that came from Virginia, but they'd faded by now.

More and more, Elliot had been thinking about that little white farmhouse by the pond. There were times when his heart ached to see it, when he'd leave the house with his keys in hand and actually think about driving down there. Much as he loved her, Elliot could never make Olivia understand this need.

She shifted on the pillow and mumbled something. _Mothman_. Elliot chuckled, wondering what she was dreaming about. The night before, in her sleep, she said something about her grandmother from Texas.

He remembered his own grandfather, from Missouri. The old town doctor, the old Colonel who began fighting in the teens and didn't let up until Americans were watching "Howdy Doody" and grilling out on their flagstone patios. Grandpa Sherman died in 1974 and left Elliot his pistol and a head full of memories. Sometimes at his mother's, Elliot would open the trunks and take out Sherm's military uniform and the pictures of all his war buddies.

Olivia would have liked him.

So far, everything had gone well on the job. Only Munch and Casey knew what was going on, though Cragen probably had an inkling the mutual attraction had bubbled into something more. Fin seemed distracted lately and while Elliot wanted to tell him about the relationship, it seemed his buddy had bigger fish to fry.

Elliot mentioned the whole thing to his kids in an off-handed way, and thought they were okay with it. Maureen was especially glad her father wasn't so damn angry anymore. The weekends Elliot had them, Olivia would make herself scarce. He was staying at her apartment most of the time, anyways. The house had too many memories, and neither of them would ever feel right about sleeping in the bed Elliot had shared with Kathy.

Sometimes it all seemed like a dream. It wasn't all about sex, although she seemed to enjoy it. Often they'd be too tired and drained for anything. Some nights, though, the passion was there and it manifested in almost violent way. The world filled with bursting colors and sounds and lights. Then he'd wonder if she was thinking and seeing the same thing as her nails pierced the skin of his back and her teeth clamped onto his collarbone.

But often he was just content to sleep beside Olivia and just wonder...

_Mothman._

She said it again and Elliot burst out laughing. Olivia slowly rose, rubbing her eyes. "What are you laughing at?" she asked in a dreamy slur.

"You keep saying Mothman."

"Uh huh," she groaned, rolling over.

He watched her sleep for a bit longer, thinking of all the things he loved in his life that he'd lost. Then, just as slumber was about to set in, he thought of those sunny summer days in Missouri...

_"Granma! Play 'How You Gonna Keep Them Down On the Farm' for me and Grandpa Sherman!"_

_"If you help me polish the saddle, you can ride Chestnut out to the shed and back."_

_"Your grandpa was a good man, Elliot. Never forget that. He kept the whole unit together...he was like a father to me..."_

_"I hate to sell the place, but ever since Mom died..."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Everyone on the ground!"

The agent kicked the door in. Yeah, they finally tracked down the kidnappers to some dump in Queens. The biggest problem was some government agency wanted in on the action, and sent two agents that looked like they were fresh out of the Academy. Their combined age was almost Elliot's and he was less than cordial to them that morning.

"You do your job, Stabler and we'll do ours. But if we tell you to move, you move and make it fast. Same goes for all of you," the male agent said.

"I love having to listen to the government," Munch sighed, shrugging on his bulletproof vest. The female agent cut her eyes at him. Elliot thought Munch couldn't mind much, because the girl was cute. Munch was a sucker for pretty girls, as evidenced by his marriages.

The slum reeked, instantly reminding Elliot of his encounter three months before. It was the dead of summer. The wood floor moaned and groaned under their feet. Music came from a stereo across the street. Beside their heartbeats, this was the only sound in the air.

_She's come undone_

_She didn't know what she was headed for_

_It was too late..._

Olivia was beside him, trying to follow the agents with her eyes. Fin crouched beside her with a steely look in his eyes. Room to room, they swept their flashlights, only to find shreds of wallpaper and human waste in the corners. A thump in a closed-off room sent the agents and the detectives flying in. A shot was fired and five guns immediately answered back.

_And it was too late..._

_She's gone too far, she's lost the sun..._

"That them?" the male agent asked. The same man and women Elliot and Olivia had encountered months before were lying on the floor in spreading pools of blood.

"Yeah," was all Olivia could muster. They started the sweep again. Someone cried out. It was a yelp that made Elliot's blood run cold. He ran towards it, hearing others scampering behind him. Munch was standing in a doorway, almost unable to speak.

_Too many mountains, and not enough stairs to climb..._

_Too many churches, and not enough truth..._

"Munch, what is..."

_Too many people, and not enough eyes to see.._

_Too many lives to lead, and not enough time..._

Elliot ran in the room and wished he could go back in time and slip in the shower or fall down the stairs, just so he couldn't have to see this. In the darkness, flashlight beams hit the children, who stared back through sightless eyes. They were all lined up in a row, and had been in there awhile. The agents were pokerfaced at the sight. Olivia was breathing shallowly. Elliot put a hand on her back and she didn't shrug it off. Fin was already in the room; he had discovered it. His eyes moved from the children to the speechless searchers. He walked up to Munch, handed him a service revolver and walked right out the door.

For a minute, Elliot thought someone was groaning, but then he was aware it was coming from the structure. It sounded like it was about to buckle under the weight of its tremendous secret.

"Go! Go! Run!" the agents screamed, just as the floor began to buckle. They all began to slide slightly to the middle of the room. Elliot grabbed Olivia's collar and she grabbed Munch and they all took off. The group made it to the sidewalk as the slum sighed and collapsed. Coughing in the dust, Olivia slowly released her grip on Munch. Elliot looked her over slowly. They were okay.

"She's come undone," Munch said slowly, strangely. The air of finality in his voice startled Olivia; he could see her flinch. Fin was sitting in the cruiser, head in hands. The sound of sirens grew closer and progressively louder. Waves of heat poured from the asphalt and Elliot decided he'd better sit down or lay down. Olivia was shouting something at him, but it all just faded into the clean, sweet air above the clouds.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He woke up in the hospital. Not a surprise. The room was cool and filled with Olivia's familiar scent. His eyes scanned around until they rested on her, dozing in a chair.

"Liv."

She startled a little, then smiled. There was a lot of pain behind it, though.

"How'd I get here?"

"You passed out on the sidewalk. The doctor says you were dehydrated," she said, moving closer to the bed. "We've only been here an hour."

Elliot ran his hand over his face. An IV was attached to his arm, and the wheels squeaked slightly on the floor. "What about Munch and Fin? Where'd they go?" he pressed, stroking Olivia's bruised arm.

"Munch is back at the precinct."

She turned away so he couldn't see her eyes. "Fin couldn't handle it, El...he's in with Huang to talk about what happened."

Elliot sighed. He pulled Olivia closer to him and she turned back around. Her eyes brimmed with tears, matching his. Elliot pulled her into his arms and stroked her back.

"I have something to tell you Elliot. Oh, God," she moaned, crying harder. For a moment, a white hot surge of panic shot through him. Was she sick? It was almost unimaginable because they'd been so careful...but was Olivia pregnant?

"I've never told another person this and really meant it."

She picked her head up and looked him in the eye. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

"I love you," she said in a controlled whisper. "Does it matter now?"

Elliot went slackjawed. He pulled her into a kiss, a shaky, out-of-control affair that left him feeling weak again.

"Liv, no matter what...I want you to know that from the moment I met you...I thought you had a real nice ass."

Olivia looked momentarily confused, then angry. He smiled up at her and the clouds lifted from her face. She slapped his arm.

"You'll always be a bastard," Olivia smiled. He pulled her down for another kiss, and whispered words he never thought he'd say again and actually mean.

"Love you, too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That evening they sat on the couch trying to concentrate on "Waiting For Guffman". Although Olivia seemed to have it memorized, watching this seemed to pacify her a little. Nothing felt different between them. Elliot knew deep down that it was because they had always loved each other. It was just out in the open now.

While they were laughing at the Chinese restaurant scene, someone knocked on the door. Elliot was shirtless, thinking it just might be a confused delivery boy or something. But it was Fin, looking tired and pale.

"Come in, man," Elliot said. He was happy to see his friend, but worried about how the events of the day had touched him.

Olivia clicked off the TV and stood up. They all just kind of stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

"So it's true. I didn't believe Munch when he told me about you guys," Fin finally said. Olivia looked at the floor and smiled.

"Are you okay? You didn't look good today and Munch didn't say much about what happened," Elliot said, his brow creasing in concern.

Fin sat down, and Olivia and Elliot took it as their cue to do the same.

"I quit."

Elliot couldn't ask him why. "So, what are you going to do?" was all he could muster.

"Start a business. See my family. Probably move to Jersey and get a place by the beach, like I've always wanted."

"And was Munch..."

"He requested that I have a guest room at my place by the beach. Look, if I stay on the force, it's going to be the same thing again. Every personal relationship I had went to hell. Every night and every day, I lived for the job and other people. I just want to go somewhere quiet where I don't have to see dead kids or beaten women every day and not worry about dying all the time," Fin said. "I knew this was all coming on, so I started saving my money."

"So you're going to be okay," Olivia said.

"Oh, hell yeah. Things are going to be all right."

They talked for about an hour. Fin wasn't a close friend, but he was a trusted colleague and the first one on the scene if something went wrong or if someone needed a hand. It hurt to think about him leaving, but in the long run, it was better for him. Elliot couldn't really remember the events of the day very clearly. They all just lumped together in a big blur.

Fin pulled Elliot out the door after saying goodbye to Olivia.

"Be good to that girl. That's my girl, there. Be good to her," Fin said sadly.

"I promise you, we'll take care of each other in the best way we know how," Elliot said deliberately. Fin smiled in a knowing way, maybe content that his friends were going to be okay, too, in the very end.

When Elliot walked back into the apartment, Olivia was looking at her TV.

"You know, we never did give Mildred that TV," she said, rubbing her fingertips on her bottom lip.

"No, we didn't."

"Maybe we could deliver one to her this weekend. I've got a full tank of gas and I think I need to do some thinking, like long road-trip kind of thinking," she said.

Elliot shook his head and smiled. He thought about Sgt. Brown's offer. He thought about the grass rippling like water all around them. The farmhouse, with its screen door banging in the sunshine. His kids looking tanned and healthy, running through the tall grass, laughing.

As Olivia drove, he stared at the stars through the moonroof. They were just as bright as they'd been that night on the river. He reached out for her hand.

It was such a big sky, and they were so small under it.

**The End**

_**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! It's funny, you grow attached to these characters in fanfictions, then you watch the show and they're so distant, so it's kind of strange, like something's missing. Maybe "Fault" will change all that. If not, I'm going to kick Dick Wolf in the shins. **_

_**Thanks to everyone who chose this as a favorite and left such nice reviews. They really do mean a lot to me and I appreciate every one of them. **_


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